


My Name Is Dark

by wobuzhidao322



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, M/M, Smuggler Ben Solo, Smuggler Kylo Ren, Young Ben Solo, Young Poe Dameron
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 03:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22029538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wobuzhidao322/pseuds/wobuzhidao322
Summary: Poe Dameron never intended to end up a spice runner in some godforsaken quadrant of the galaxy. There are lots of things he never intended to be: a liar, a thief, a criminal. However, a chance encounter with Kylo Ren, a gangster with a mysterious past, a penchant for violence, and a calling to the Dark Side is about to turn his universe inside out and throw him right back where he never wanted to be: at the heart of the fight between light and dark for control of the galaxy.(This is marked as cannon divergent because in this universe after the temple massacre, Kylo and his knights form a crime syndicate (like crimson dawn) instead of joining Snoke and the first order. Snoke wants him as an apprentice but after what he considers to be a betrayal by Luke, Kylo decides he wants to be his own master)
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Ben Solo, Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Poe Dameron/Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this is marked as cannon divergent because in this universe after the temple massacre, Kylo and his knights form a crime syndicate (like crimson dawn) instead of joining Snoke and the first order. Snoke wants him as an apprentice but after what he considers to be a betrayal by Luke, Kylo decides he wants to be his own master.

For as long as he could remember, he had never liked the cold. His home, Yavin 4, had always been warm, with its miles of jungles and forests. Even on the coldest days, the sun had still shone bright and clear above them, warming everything its rays touched. Kijimi was anything but warm. Poe Dameron pulled his coat closer to him as he walked through the frozen streets. It was on nights like this when he wondered if he had made the right choice.

The snow had started to fall a few minutes before, and anyone who didn't need to be outside wasn't. Poe tried to think how long it had been since he had left home, how long since he had that fight with his father, how long since he booked passage on a trading vessel, and headed out into the unknown. It felt as though it had been a lifetime ago. It didn't matter now. There was no running from this life.

He caught sight of himself in the polished steel of a door as he passed it. He had filled out. The heavy coat he wore sat well on his shoulders. It had been a gift from Zorii, the leader of their little gang, after his first successful run. She had told him point-blank that the pathetic coat he had arrived in would be useless once real winter came. He had never asked how she had guessed his size so accurately. In all truth, he didn't really want to know. It was a dark brown, lined with light fur. Of course, the lining more of a cream now given the wear and tear the coat had seen now, but it was still beautiful in its way if a little lived in.

Poe looked different from the scared boy he had been when he had left home. His hair had grown out into a mass of black curls, and the scruff of a beard covered his face. The biggest difference, though, was in his eyes. They seemed darker somehow, as though the light had been sucked from the. Kijimi did that to people, he thought, pulled the light from them day by day. The only thing about him that had not changed was the blaster he wore at his hip. It had been a gift from his father, and no matter what had happened between them, he couldn't quite bear to give it up.

In the distance, he heard the telltale sound of a patrol approaching. With a sigh, Poe stepped off the main road and melted into the shadows. It had taken a few weeks to perfect this little disappearing act, but now it was almost second nature. He waited patiently as they passed. On Yavin, the first order had been nothing but a shadow, a poisonous one, but a shadow none the less. Here on Kijimi, they felt more like a plague. Their grip on the city seemed to tighten with every day. The local officials had turned a blind eye to the spice trade, as long as they got their cut, but it still didn't help to be caught out unawares by one of their patrols. Poe thought back to Zorii's first words of advice when she had inducted him into her crew: "Stick to the shadows, kid. They can't kill shadows, and dead men don't get paid." Poe smiled. He liked Zorii. She was honest, brutal, and she had taken him in.  
Poe waited a few minutes more until he was confident the patrol was long gone before setting back on the long route to the dropoff site. If any of the others resented how much responsibility Zorii gave their new recruit, they said nothing. He may be green and new to the spice trade, but he was the best with a blaster by far, and in this thieves den of a city that was all that mattered, especially tonight.

He was supposed to meet a representative of one of the new syndicates, someone named "Ren." Of course, this was quite unhelpful as this was their clan name. Every member of the syndicate had taken the last name in honor of their leader, Kylo Ren. To say that the others had been unhappy that it was he who Zorii had chosen to represent them, would be the understatement of the millennia. In all truth, Poe was also unsure that he had been the best choice, but there was no one else who could go.

Zorii was healing up after an issue on their last run, and none of the others were good enough in a fight should things get nasty. Poe hoped that things wouldn't get nasty, but when you were dealing with syndicates, they almost always did.  
Poe had heard the stories of the old crime syndicates when he was a child. They had become legendary for their savagery in the days of the empire, and their new successors were just as brutal, if not more so. Kylo Ren and his knights had a particularly bad reputation. It was even whispered that their leader and his lieutenants were strong with the force. Poe had heard a story one particularly gruesome incident in which Kylo Ren had cut a man in two for betraying him. Poe didn't believe in the force, but he had no doubt that that kind of savergery could exist. 

The meeting was set in the heart of the city, a warren of cantinas and smugglers holds built into the mountainside. He looked down at the little transponder array on his wrist and picked up the pace with a sigh. Poe was still on schedule, but when meeting someone like this, he preferred to be early. When you were first, you had time to scope things out and prepare. Something in his gut told him that with someone like Ren, it would be best to arrive as far in advance as possible. However, the patrol had set him behind by a little more than he would have liked.

Poe walked as quickly as he could through the cold night. The usual gutter trash had reemerged after the patrol had passed by. Cantina lights were flickering back on, and others were emerging from their shadows and heading about their business.

After what felt like hours in the cold snow, he finally reached the meeting place. It had been set for the starlight cantina. It was a horrible little dive with terrible music and worse company, but if you were looking to do business, you could do worse. At the starlight, everyone kept to themselves, and if they didn't, it wasn't long before blaster bolts started firing. As he reached the little alleyway that would lead to the familiar steel door, Poe paused, trying to gather himself. He closed his eyes, breathing in and out evenly just as he had learned to do in flight school before he decided the fleet wasn't for him.

"Well, you aren't Zorri," said a low, melodic voice somewhere in the shadows behind him. Poe spun around, blaster drawn. There was no one there. He turned cautiously; blaster still pointed in the direction from which the voice had come. "Show yourself," he called into the shadows. He heard a laugh, rumbling and tinged with a bitter amusement that sounded vaguely familiar. The laughter was followed by a small flash of light and a quiet click. It wasn't the sound of a blaster being primed, however. Someone was lighting a cigarette. Poe leaned forward, staring into the dark, intrigued. He could almost make out the faint silhouette of a man leaning against the alley wall deep in the shadows. Whoever he was, he looked human, if pretty large. Poe could make out a pair of broad shoulders before the light was extinguished, and all that remained was a tiny pinprick of orange.

Then there was just silence. Although Poe would have sworn he could feel the other man's eyes on him. The silence stretched on, and the snow continued to fall. It was getting late, and the temperature was dropping quickly. Pretty soon, it would be far too cold for either of them to stand out here, staring one another down. The other man didn't move other than to take slow drags from that cigarette. It was almost as though the stranger was daring him to break the silence, to make the next move. Poe took the bait. He couldn't help himself.  
"Look asshole; I don't have time for this. Either you come out into the light, or I'll blast you," Poe growled, "It's freezing and believe it or not, I have other things I'd rather be doing." He hoped he sounded menacing. Zorii had said he needed to work on 'menacing.'

The stranger laughed again, and Poe could vaguely see him push himself off the wall he had been leaning against. The spice trader watched the butt of the cigarette rise as the man took a deep inhale. Poe was beginning to lose his patience.  
"If you don't hurry up, I'm going to start counting. What do you think sounds better? down from ten or down from three?" There. That felt a little closer to menacing.

The stranger snorted, and Poe could almost hear the smile in the man's voice. Clearly, Poe wasn't nearly as menacing as he needed to be.  
"All right, all right. Lower the blaster, and it's a deal. I just bought this coat, and I'd hate to have to clean your blood out of it." The stranger's tone was clearly joking, but there was an edge to it that made Poe shudder. He steeled himself. He represented one of the most fearsome crews in the quadrant. Poe Dameron would not be afraid of some stranger hiding in the shadows.  
Poe cocked the weapon in response. "Nope. I think you'll come out now or I'll shoot, and then we see who's got to worry about cleaning up blood," he growled back. There was another laugh, and then the man emerged from the shadows, hands held up in a gesture of mock surrender.

He was dressed as a smuggler, but the clothes didn't seem quite right on him. His long coat was black and lined with some sort of fur, but he wore no hat or anything else to protect him from the brutal cold. Except for a pair of dark leather gloves. It was the way he stood that seemed out of place. People on Kijimi hunched into themselves, trying to avoid the attention of others at all costs. This man reminded him of one of the large cats that lived in the jungles on Yavin- primal and poised, but lethal.

The cigarette the man had lit before now hung from his pouty lips in an almost sinful way. Poe couldn't help the little inhale of breath as he got a good look at the other man. He was tall. Very tall and broad too. He had a full head of long dark hair that fell nearly down to his shoulders and a little smirk. The stranger moved forward before stopping to lean against the alley wall.

Poe watched, transfixed as the tall man pulled the cigarette from his lips, before dropping it on the ground and stamping it out in the snow. The yellow lights of the alley gave his pale skin a warm glow, highlighting the what seemed like thousands of freckles that covered his face. The stranger let him look, smirking a little before turning the full intensity of his gaze on Poe.  
"So," the stranger said, "You aren't Zorri."  
Poe lowered the blaster. "You already said that."  
The stranger quirked an eyebrow, looking increasingly unimpressed.  
"Yes, because you aren't, and it's a problem."  
"I'm Poe Dameron. Zorri sent me," Poe threw back. He had quickly come to the realization that this must be Ren. He had to admit; he had expected someone a little older. Perhaps someone a little worse for wear and certainly uglier.

Ren took another cigarette from somewhere in his coat. Poe watched somewhat nonplussed as the tall man lit it, taking a few drags before responding.  
"My arrangement was with Zorri, not with you, Poe Dameron. I only deal with her, and you aren't her…" He looked Poe up and down with those unnatural burning eyes and then smirked once more. "And as much as I'd like to get to know you, this won't change the fact that the agreement has been violated."

Poe bristled at that. "Well, you can either deal with me or go home to your masters empty-handed, Ren." Poe rolled the name on his tongue, liking the weight of it. "Given what I've heard about the syndicates, I'd think you'd rather work with what you're given then return with nothing."

Ren looked almost shocked for a second, but then his expression settled into dangerous amusement. Had Poe not death with wild things his whole life, he might not have recognized the look for what it was: predatory. Ren laughed, running a hand through his hair before fixing Poe with a wide grin.  
"well," he purred, "Guess we better go inside and get a drink then." With that, he turned, his coat sweeping out behind him like a great pair of black wings, and made his way down the alley and towards the door to the starlight.  
Poe was left with two choices: either stand in the alley and freeze or follow him. Against all of his instincts, he followed him.


	2. Chapter 2

Kylo Ren strode into the cantina as if he owned it, in a way he did. The syndicate owned many just like it around the galaxy. Though the names changed, the interior and the guests rarely did. They were always dimly lit, rancid, horrible little places. Not that he minded. In fact, these burnt-out dumps felt like the closest thing to a home he had ever had. The starlight, in particular, reminded him of some of the dives Han Solo had taken his boy so long ago, but he pushed that thought aside. He rarely thought of Han Solo these days, which was probably better for both of them. 

The clientele of this particular dump seemed especially rough. Somewhere in the corner, he heard the telltale sound of a band starting up. The music was terrible as expected, but it livened up the place a little. He strode past the bar, barely taking notice of the other clientele. They were mostly run-of-the-mill thieves, smuggles, whores, and beggars. Hardly worth his attention. 

It was on worlds like this that he was thankful he had decided to take the mask. It gave him the anonymity he had always craved as a child. When he wore it, he could be "Kylo Ren," the most feared leader of the new syndicates in this part of the galaxy, but when he took it off, he could be anyone he wished. Sometimes it was nice to be no one. 

Kylo swept across the room before draping himself casually in the farthest booth from wandering eyes and waited patiently for Poe to follow him. The little spice runner had captured his attention in a way few had in a long time. It had been a challenge not to burst out laughing when he realized what Poe Dameron must think. The young man was clearly under the impression that he was some sort of thug, nothing but a low-level enforcer sent to play errand boy. He could hardly blame him. Dameron seemed new to this. At least new enough not to know the difference between low level, and the higher-ups. This particular character was a lieutenant, but he wouldn't fault Dameron for not knowing. He would learn soon enough. 

Kylo allowed himself a private smile. What was originally going to be nothing more than an annoying little chore was turning out to be far more interesting than he ever could have hoped for. To think he had considered sending one of his knights along instead. 

A little droid rolled over, asking cheerily for his order.   
By the time the droid returned with two glasses and a large bottle, Poe Dameron had strode across the dirty floor and come to sit, if somewhat begrudgingly across from him in the booth. There were still a few flakes of snow caught in his raven hair. Kylo got the sudden urge to reach up and sweep them off but stopped himself. There was no denying that Poe Dameron was a good looking man. Though, admittedly a lot smaller than himself, Poe had a nice set of broad shoulders and seemed to be in fighting shape. It had been a while since Kylo had sat like this, maskless across from a handsome man in a cantina, even if this was technically business. However, the moment he had caught sight of the spice runner in the alley, he had decided that there was no reason to deny himself a bit of fun as well. 

Kylo smiled, pushing the waiting glass across the table to Dameron and pouring them generous amounts of the purple liquor. He watched with amusement as Poe eyed the drink suspiciously. The spice runner looked distinctly uncomfortable with the whole situation, in a way that Kylo found almost as endearing as it was off for someone who certainly looked the part of the criminal. During his time as Han Solo's son and later as he and his knights began their criminal endeavors, Kylo had seen nearly every type of scum in the galaxy. Very few of them shone as brightly as the man before him. For a second, Kylo had considered taking a peek into the man's mind just to see what made the spice runner tick but decided against it. It was always more fun to read people the old fashion way, so he pulled another cigarette out of his jacket and lit it. It was a nasty habit, but it helped take the edge off. Kylo Ren could use the force, the smuggler he played on planets like this, couldn't. 

Perhaps it was silly to commit so heavily to the little fantasy. After all, if he really needed to use his power without the mask, nothing would stop him from doing so. However, sometimes it was nice to simply live, without feeling the life and death that swirled all around him wherever he went. So, instead of pushing inside the other man's mind and poking around, he took a long drag of his cigarette and smiled. His knights had often told him his smile could be somewhat unsettling, too many teeth, but that hardly stopped him. "Come on, have a drink," he purred, "It's not drugged if that's what you're worried about. I have other ways of getting what I want out of people," he finished with a wink, before taking a drink from his glass. 

Dameron distinctly looked unamused. "Look, Ren. It's been a rough night already, and as I said outside, I'd rather be," Poe turned and looked around them, 'literally anywhere else, but we have some business to attend to, so if we could cut the bullshit that'd be great. Now Zorii said you needed a shipment sent through New Republic space." This one was clearly straight to business, Kylo liked that. 

He leaned back, kicking his boots up on the table the way he had seen his father so many times before. He gave Dameron his best roguish smile. "Oh please, call me Kai," he teased, "Clearly Zorii neglected to inform you how business is done. We have a drink first, and then we talk. We aren't animals." Poe stared at him for a moment in disbelief, before groaning and taking a long, deep swig of his own drink. Kylo didn't need to use any of his powers to guess at the thoughts swirling around in Dameron's mind. It wasn't difficult to see that though he might have been on missions for the crew, Poe had yet to take a turn negotiating in the backrooms of Cantinas like this.   
Ren tried not to laugh as the spice runner pulled a face at the taste of the liquor. It was vile stuff, which was part of the reason he had picked it out in the first place. He really shouldn't allow himself to bow to such childish impulses, but then again, that was half of the fun of being "Kai." Where Kylo Ren was dark, intimidating, and unpredictable, 'Kai' could be a childish rogue. If he dared to allow himself to get pulled down that particular train of thought, Kylo might have seen the similarities between his little charade and a certain smuggler. 

"Good," Kylo smiled, as Poe set the disgusting drink down on the table, clearly resisting the urge to spit it out. "Now," he put out the cigarette on the table, "As you were saying, we need a shipment taken through New Republic space. We would do it ourselves, but General Organa and her little 'resistance,'" he put as much spite into the word as possible, "aren't exactly our biggest fans." It wasn't lost on him how Poe perked up at the name.   
  
Kylo paused to take a drink before continuing. "The job pays well. 2 million units. Half now, half upon completion. I want Zorri's best pilot on the job. Needless to say, failure to complete the mission will result in…unpleasant consequences for all involved. This particular cargo is or extreme importance to Kylo Ren." 

Poe nodded. Kylo watched the little expression flit across the spice runner's handsome face as he considered the proposal. There was a long pause. In the background, Kylo was vaguely aware of the band striking up a new tune- something slower.   
"What's the cargo," Dameron finally asked. His tone was far more business-like than before. The knight wondered if this was due to the two million units or the prospect of flying through New Republic space with something the head of the Ren Clan thought was of 'extreme importance.' 

Kylo was rather pleased by the thought that it was fear of his organization that had straightened the Dameron out. He had spent the past few years bending the majority of the underworld to their knees. Of course, it hadn't been too much of a difficult task given the fact their strength with the force. It was quite amazing how quickly desert could be snuffed out with the stroke of a lightsaber. Not that he relished in the violence, but all things have their uses. That was something Skywalker never seemed to fully understand. 

So Kylo made Dameron wait, taking a long drag, before answering.  
"Now that is need to know, and I don't think it's something you need to know, Dameron," Kylo smirked. However, Poe didn't falter this time. There was a flash of something that seemed almost like anger in the dark man's eyes. It caught Kylo's attention. This one had spirit.   
Poe collected himself quickly, clearly realizing he had betrayed his emotions. "I'm the best pilot she has, and the only one of the crew with inside knowledge about their tactics," he said evenly, "So I think I do need to know."   
Kylo raised a brow. Clearly, there was more to this story. Once again, the knight had to resist the urge to skim the pilot's thoughts and see what he could find. His mother had always preached patience to him when he was a boy. She had often said that if you gave them time, people would always show you who they were on their own. He had preferred to simply find out for himself, but the older he got the more Kylo saw the truth in her words. After all, it was sometimes far more rewarding to have people show themselves rather than rip the answers from them. 

So he pressed Dameron. "And what' insider knowledge is that then, Dameron?" Poe paused, giving him an appraising look. Kylo saw a series of new emotions flit through those expressive eyes as he waited for the response. Chief among them was what felt a little like shame. Interesting.   
"I used to fly for them," Poe answered carefully. "I was in the training academy, but I dropped out. Wasn't a good fit." Dameron trailed off as if remembering something. 

Kylo felt a twinge of compassion for the other man. He knew well enough what that was like. However, he didn't let the emotion cloud his judgment. "I see," said Kylo, "Well, I guess that is about as 'inside' as I'll find out here. You any good, Dameron?" 

Poe snapped back to reality, giving the knight a roguish smile of his own. "I'm the best damn pilot they ever had. Whatever the job is, I will get it done. So," there was a pause as Poe took another swig of his drink, "what the hell is the cargo?"   
Kylo laughed. He liked this little pilot. 


End file.
